


The Paterfamilias

by citrinesunset



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Rome, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Dubious Consent, M/M, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 14:47:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17983127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrinesunset/pseuds/citrinesunset
Summary: Ancient Rome AU. Hank has served Charles faithfully for years, and the two have grown close. When the question of potentially getting his freedom arises, Hank is conflicted.





	The Paterfamilias

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [widgenstain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/widgenstain/pseuds/widgenstain) in the [xmenrarepairs19](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/xmenrarepairs19) collection. 



> In response to a prompt by widgenstain for X-Men Rarepairs 2019: "Roman AU with Charles as a rich patrician and Hank as his private secretary."
> 
> I loved this prompt and immediately had all sorts of ideas and wanted to do all sorts of research for it, but alas, due to time constraints I had to keep it a little short and simple. But I had a lot of fun with it and wouldn't mind expanding and doing more with it.

In a household as prosperous as Xavier's, there was no reason one of the less-educated slaves couldn't help Charles dress in the morning. But this was a duty Hank always performed, even though his master had never explicitly asked him to. 

Hank preferred it that way. He liked to be the first person to see Charles in the morning, and the first person Charles saw. It was a good opportunity to remind him of the business he had to attend to. And help him sober up, if he'd overindulged in wine the night before.

This morning, Charles had other ideas.

"I'm sure I'm terribly busy, but do you suppose we can spare a few minutes before we face the day?"

Charles sat on the edge of his bed dressed only in his tunic. He lifted the hem to expose his half-hard cock and flashed one of his sheepish smiles that seemed to charmingly suggest that he thought Hank might refuse him.

He wouldn't refuse him, of course. Not simply because it was Charles' right to demand this but because Hank treasured these intimate moments.

He set down the water jug he was carrying and knelt between Charles' spread legs. The tile floor was hard and cool under Hank's knees, but he hardly noticed once he had Charles' cock in his mouth.

He supposed some people might find the arrangement undignified. Hank was a slave, certainly. But he'd been helping Charles run the household for years. And perhaps it was irregular for a wealthy male citizen to enjoy the touch of his slave quite so frequently.

But to dwell on that would mean ignoring the pleasure of Charles' hand in his hair and his soft murmurs of praise while Hank tended to him.

* * *

Once he'd succeeded in getting Charles ready, he escorted him on the way to see his lawyer. Such trips were not infrequent since the death of Charles' stepfather. Charles bore the full weight of responsibility, now.

Hank wished he could sit in on the meeting. He had his concerns about the state of Charles' affairs. Charles was good with people. He always seemed to know just what to say to them. But he had no interest in industry or money. He acted as though his inheritance of his father and stepfather's estates were a burden. And he'd yet to show an interest in marrying. 

The thought of Charles marrying was vaguely unsettling, but Hank had to admit that the shrinking household was a concern. It was only Charles, his sister, and the household slaves, now.

And then, a couple years ago, Charles was injured after being thrown from a horse. He'd recovered well, but still walked with a cane and found it difficult to go long distances. So Hank tried to walk with him whenever possible.

But Charles wished to have privacy at this meeting, and Hank had his own errand to run. Charles had ordered a large quantity of wine for a party, and Hank needed to check on it. 

As he walked through the city streets, Hank kept his head down and tried to remain inconspicuous. Whenever he went out, he wrapped his feet in cloth to hide their appearance. All the same, he found himself feeling exposed whenever he ventured outside the walls of the estate.

When he returned, Charles was in the doorway, speaking to his lawyer. Hank couldn't help but catch part of the conversation.

"He's more educated than I am, honestly. It seems a crime to not allow him to live up to his potential."

Hank froze.

"You must protect your assets," the lawyer said. "I'll remind you that your sister seems very determined to spend her way through her dowry before she finds a husband."

"As far as I'm concerned, that's her prerogative. Ever since she had the opportunity to watch some gladiators train, she's been very keen on me going into the gladiator business. I'll happily take her spending money in the market instead."

"And what about you? No consideration of marriage?"

Hank sensed that whatever Charles had been discussing, it was safe now for him to intrude. He walked up and made his presence known.

"Ah," Charles said when he saw him. "Excellent timing."

Hank didn't expect Charles to tell him what transpired in the meeting. Charles had his secrets, and that was to be expected. But to his surprise, Charles brought the topic up as they walked together.

"I've updated my will, stipulating that you be freed in the event of my death."

For a moment, Hank was speechless. What did one say to that? "That's very generous. Thank you."

"It's not generous," Charles said bluntly. "It's the least that I can do, and it's rather meaningless, seeing as we're close in age. But I wanted you to be aware."

He respected Charles' honesty. He was right, after all—the chances of Charles dying while Hank still had his youth were unlikely. And the thought of waiting for Charles' death to receive good fortune made him feel cold.

Charles' honesty emboldened Hank. He found himself saying, "And if I were old enough? Would you consider granting my freedom?"

The law said he had to be thirty before he could be freed. That wasn't far off, now.

Charles hesitated. "Perhaps, yes."

Any other master, and Hank would have interpreted the statement as a lie.

Charles had purchased Hank some years ago. He'd been a young man, then, carrying a bag of coins that weren't entirely his. His stepfather had left town and agreed to the purchase of an educated Greek slave to assist Charles with the estate.

The seller had offered a discount on account of Hank's deformity, but Charles had refused to accept it. In retrospect, that was when Hank started to love Charles.

Hank had to acknowledge that his feet would have been an asset if he were toiling in the mines or fighting in the arena. But his speed and nimbleness did him little good as Charles' secretary. And yet, Charles had never treated his condition like a defect. Charles had allowed him to continue his pursuit of knowledge. Charles treated him almost like a peer.

And so, Hank wanted to believe him.

* * *

At Charles' party, Hank tried to stay out of the way. Eventually, he snuck around to the side of the house and took off his sandals. He scaled the wall and crept along the roof until he could see down into the courtyard and watch.

Most of the time, he didn't envy Charles' position. Charles could be a good citizen and a good host, but at heart, he was like Hank: a lover of knowledge. If Hank were freed, he might become a tutor or doctor. That would suit him well. But Charles had no such options.

On the other hand, even if Charles freed him, Hank would never have a status that would permit him to sit beside Charles at one of his parties.

He stayed on the roof until Charles' guests began to leave. He knew Charles would want to retire as soon as everyone was gone, and he was waiting in Charles' bedroom when he arrived.

Charles' cheeks were flushed and his eyes glistened in the lamplight. He'd enjoyed the wine well tonight.

As Hank helped him undress, Charles said, "I will free you one day. You have my word."

"I know," Hank said softly. "But I'm happy here, too. With you."

Charles blinked and swayed a little. Hank placed his hands on his shoulders to steady him.

"You shouldn't tell me that," Charles said. "I'll want to believe you actually mean it." He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. "I don't know what I'd do without you, sometimes. When you asked me earlier if I would free you, for a moment, I wanted to say no."

Hank looked at his feet. "I know. I understood. I enjoy what we have, too."

"Stay here with me tonight."

He'd only spent the night in Charles' bed a few times. It always made him feel strange in the morning light. He didn't think about that as he lay on his stomach beside Charles. He let Charles lift his tunic and prepare him with oil before climbing on top of him. The warm heaviness of Charles' body on top of his made the moment feel perfect and eternal.

Perhaps he was a fool. Perhaps they both were. For now, he didn't care.


End file.
